Welcome to the 90s
by Caasi
Summary: The Second Wizarding War ended in 1997 after Harry Potter famously rebounded Voldemort's killing curse at Hogwarts. What no one seems to care to describe, however, is how that wasn't the last one. My name is Peter Johnson. In the year of 2001, I became the Most Wanted Wizard by both Interpol and the International Confederation of Wizards. This is how the world went to hell:
1. Prologue: The Arrival Pt1

03/10/2019

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**A Wizarding World Alternate Story: Welcome to the 90s**

_Inspired by U.N.C.L.E., Dallas Buyers Club, and War Dogs_

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**Prologue: The Arrival - Part1**

_Synopsis_: The Second Wizarding War ended in 1997 after Harry Potter famously rebounded Voldemort's killing curse at Hogwarts. What no one seems to care to relate, however, is how that wasn't the last one. My name is Peter Johnson. In the year 2001, I became the Most Wanted Wizard by both Interpol and the International Confederation of Wizards. This is how the world went to hell:

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..90s..

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When people have nostalgic thoughts about the 90s, they typically have in mind the times they danced Macarena in discos, seeing their science guy Bill Nye on TV, playing with their Tamagotchi, and wearing baggy and colorful clothing. That is, if you lived away from any areas with armed conflicts. With less luck, were in the Balkans, Algeria, Afghanistan, Somalia or Rwanda, you would have to deal with a civil war. You also had the Gulf War in 1990, in the Middle East, and just 3 years later in 1994, a civil war erupted in Iraq between the government and the Kurdish forces.

_Oh, but those places don't really count. The 90s were okay, if you didn't live in a powder keg._

That's where I have to interrupt you. Russia had a constitutional crisis in 1993, as well as both Chechen Wars. Mexico, in Americas, had the Chiapas conflict, as well as the 1994 Zapatista Uprising. Nepal, that place with chill people in mountain temples, which aren't actually very chill, also erupted into a bloody civil war with foreign interventions from China, Indonesia, as well as NATO forces from the US, UK, France, and even fucking Portugal. Let me not forget India took part of the conflict as well. Brazil, a country that hasn't been in any war for more than a century (not counting their small expeditionary forces in WW2), had daily reports of kidnappings even in its biggest urban centers. The US impeached Clinton, and dealt as well with grand scandals such as the Iran-Contra affair.

And if you are a wizard in Europe, you obviously know about Voldemort.

The point is, you must have realized, anywhere can be a powder keg under the right conditions. What might be more difficult to see is that anyone can be a player, because in every continent, in every country, in every city, and in any household, conflict is just waiting to erupt thanks to the constant friction of interests.

Looking back at my life, I say I only really started living after realizing that truth. It's actually really useful once you accept it. You just have to become one of them, one of the players, and suddenly even you can win something out of the chaos. You just gotta play the right cards, at the right time, which is, granted, easier said than done.

I started playing, to be specific, shortly after my 5th year at Hogwarts. Even though I only really started making an impact after the war.

To start, my background is relevant. I'm a muggleborn who grew up in Tottenham, which, were it a country, it would be a failed state on par with Somalia. One of the poorest areas of London, it is plagued with crime, unemployment, welfare dependency, race hustlers, and gang violence. Things got worse once my father left—happened by the time I was 5—and left me, my older brother, and my mother on this shithole. Being accepted into Hogwarts was a chance my mom used to the fullest to protect me. I remember the first time she took me to the Hogwarts Express, in the midst of parents tearing up at seeing their 11 year old children depart, my mom was the only smiling happily.

However, I hadn't wanted to go at first. I didn't want to leave my only sibling, my brother, but he had convinced me. 'You can change things if you learn there', 'it a chance for you to gain power, make a difference', he had tried to inspire me.

I, as the foolish 11 year old, believed him.

When I was 15, we received the Triwizard Tournament at Hogwarts, and the death of Cedric Digory was the first slap I would get that year, a mere starter for the main dish that was still to come. You know why it hurt, even though I was really his friend? Why it bothered me so much, and I know it bothered all others too?

Because Cedric was a good guy. A good Hufflepuff, a prime example of what his house claims to be, and an example of a person with good character. And he was killed. Just like that. You can do everything right, and still lose. That's why only doing the right thing was no guarantee for justice or fairness. The right thing, in fact, didn't even exist most of the times. All you had were methods, and you had to choose those that would take you to your goal.

Problem was, as I learned that summer, being at Hogwarts, no matter how I want to frame it, was a choice, an action I took. And it had consequences. When I arrived at King's Cross in the summer of 1995, there was no one waiting for me. I waved my goodbyes to the people in my carriage, including my two good friends, Katie Bell and Francis Delly. I'm sure you know about the first since she is apparently a constant in the multiverse as a background character, but none of the second.

This guy is a Ravenclaw, the quiet type (which in Ravenclaw, means he is even less talkative than socially acceptable), and he is a smartass. He is the guy who can bullshit you so hard for so long, you wouldn't believe he was lying about who he was or what he was talking if he confessed his wrongdoings to you. He envelops you so hard, he can sell you on any idea. Need to sell bloody sand to an Arab? Francis got you, bro. Need to sell a can of Coke to Pepsi's CEO? Francis is the guy. Need to sell the Quibbler to McGonagall? Again, you need a Francis.

But for that to happen, he also needed to be extra observant, and sometimes that made him a pain in the ass. "Hey, where is your brother?" He asked me, noticing the lack of Johnson family members.

I hated sharing my problems, hated feeling like a burden, and most of all, I didn't like pity. So, I looked at him, and the thought of having him thinking my family had forgotten to come pick me up crushed my heart.

"John told me he wouldn't making it." I lied.

Francis cocked his head, "Really, when was that?" At first, he may seem nosy, but I knew he was trying to piece things together. He always did that among friends, asking importunate questions in an effort to both get reactions out of us, as well as to keep an eye.

"We exchanged letters. I had to tell him about Diggory." I explained, using a real event to pin the lie in. That's usually the safest method to cover yourself.

He seemed satisfied with that, nodding along. Afterwards, we made a couple of plans for the summer. He wanted me to visit his summer house in Algarve, and I wasn't one to reject good-hearted invitations to spend a good time. After he left though, I looked around for Katie and realize she was gone already. I couldn't see Alicia either, so they had probably left together and their parents. I silently mumbled my disappointment. Well, I would need to make sure Francis included Katie in his plans.

Hogwarts, however, didn't stay in my mind for much longer. My brother wasn't here as he had promised me, and I started to wonder. I put myself walking and reached the tube, planning my trip. Since I had my baggage, I didn't want to walk in the open in Tottenham. I would probably leave the underground by Finsbury Park, and then grab a taxi to take me to my door. Paranoid, maybe, but it would work.

The trip was almost uneventful, since my brain kept me alert. I started wondering why John hadn't come, and afterwards, realizing I hadn't exchanged letters with mom in a while, I started fearing something had happened in my absence. The fact my neighborhood had changed at all, that is, was still shite, somewhat calmed me a bit. Ironic, I know, but familiarity always had this strange effect on me. I made sure to cross the street quickly, enter the building in fast pace, reaching the fourth floor soon after.

My heart rate was high. My imagination running wild at the worst scenarios possible. Was my mom okay? Was john fine? Had there been problems? Thieving? Murder?

I forcefully closed my eyes for a moment. Breathing, I opened them again. The building was old, part of a series of construction projects in the area to take people of the streets. I knocked on the door of my own apartment, and stood there for a few seconds on that smelly corridor.

I didn't recognize whoever had opened my door.

"I apologize, who are you—" I asked in confusion, my voice growing dimmer by the syllable.

The man was bald, in his 40s, wearing adidas clothing like those Russian gangsters you saw in tv series and movies. I wondered for a moment if I was about to have problems. Did my mom know him? A boyfriend? Friend?

He squinted at me, and I think he was trying to puzzle who I was, just like I was trying with him. He snapped his fingers and said in a thick Slavic accent. "You're Johnson's kids, right? The youngest?"

I nodded, relieved he seemed to know my mom, but cautious, nevertheless. "You know my mom? Is she home?"

"Home?" He asked me confused, "Kid, your mom has moved. Hasn't she told you?"

I raised my hands over my head. "What?!"

He kept staring at me perplexed. "You didn't know? She's now across the street, at the 131st. First floor, apartment A."

"Why?" he probably wasn't the right person to ask, but it came out completely out of my control.

The man shrugged. "I don't think she was paying her bills."

I was shocked. How had no one thought important to share this with me? What else was I missing on? What else was there to discover?

In a perplexed state, I looked around. I was trying to find some reason, some rope to hold on, for the thinnest string if necessary. I needed to cross the street and check for my mom. I needed to know if she was alright.

What does he mean, 'she can't pay her bills'?

Now I was running, trunk jumping behind me as it barely kept up. I didn't even wait for the elevator, instead using the stairs. My baggage was noisy as it landed successive times over the steps as I went down. When I reached the street, I realized it had started to rain. I barely looked for any incoming cars when crossing the street. In exchange, cars honked furiously, and one almost hit my trunk as I skittered past them. Reaching the other side, I entered the apartment complex, and this one was even less taken care of then our previous.

I went to where mister adidas told me to, both knocking on the door, as well as insistently pressing the bell. When I saw my mother on the other side, my eyes teared up. I jumped over her, and we barely managed to stay standing. It was then that I realized her stench of alcohol and the pitiful state of the apartment.

"My boy, my little boy." She whispered in my ear, and I felt her lack of control over her own balance, her legs shaky.

"Mom, what happened? Why are you in this apartment?" I had so many questions, and these were the first my brain managed to spill out. I would've asked more if she didn't feel so weak to the touch. I felt like I could use my pinky finger to push her to the ground if I wanted.

She shushed me like a child, but not violently or in any aggressive way. She did it just like before when I was a kid scared of thunderstorms, her fingers sank in my hair. "It's okay, mom is here."

I immediately eyed the sofa and helped her reach it, but she was walking so slow. Almost in an inverted position, I took her in my arms and dropped her along the couch, her head over a stained pillow. Her skin was pale and her eyes had a certain yellow tinge to it.

She had clearly sank in a terrible state thanks to a good amount of alcohol, and by consequence, she couldn't even speak coherently. I looked at my mom again, taking into account her whole figure. She had lost weight too, her veins and arteries seemed greener too, or maybe that was her skin. She seemed overall discolored.

I looked around for the home phone, finding it in a lonely table at the corner of the living room. I did the only thing I thought was responsible and called an ambulance. They asked me for details, and I tried to describe my mother's state, but what did I know? She had the stench of alcohol, looked half-dead, and couldn't speak a sensible sentence. I had no idea how she had gotten to this state.

And they kept asking me questions. I tried to answer, tried to come up with something, but even I started failing. I was looking at my mom the whole time, sometimes repeating the question to her. She nodded a few times, but seemed so out of it. Eventually, I just yelled at the phone. I knew that was wrong. The lady on the other side had done nothing to me, but I felt so lonely, so out of it, that I lost control. I had arrived home to find it wasn't where I expected. I arrived only to find my mom barely alive, and I had no idea where my brother was.

"Look, you know the address, so please, just come, I beg you!" I turned off the phone afterwards while the lady asked who I was. 'I'm her son' suddenly became so difficult to say. I'm the son of the woman that almost killed herself.

I shook my head, grabbing my mom's shoulders and making sure she was paying attention to me. "Mom, where's John? Where's my brother?"

Her eyes became so glassy at the sound of my brother's name. She looked around after, as if he was just about to show up. "John?" She asked to one.

"Mom, where is John?" I asked again, the answer creeping on my chest.

Mother couldn't speak, holding a hand to her throat as if she had the world stuck in it. Tears started streaming down her cheeks.

"Where's John, mom?" I asked again, and this time I noticed how closed my throat felt.

She started shaking her head, her eyes stuck in a sight only she could see. I tried to keep up with her eyes, try to catch her attention, but she was lost in a myriad of memories.

"Where is John, mom?" I asked again, for what felt the tenth time.

She sank her hand on the pillow, and murmured words I couldn't make out.

"I can't hear you, mom." I stated the obvious.

She spoke again, and again I couldn't understand. I lost it and lifted her head, begging her to tell me once and for all where my brother was.

Finally, for the first time since I had returned, her eyes were on mine. "They took him, his own gang took him."

She had barely finished when stood up, but I couldn't move away from the couch since she had grabbed my clothing. "You can't go, I can't lose both of you!"

I fought against her, my chest pressed by an immeasurable pain, and at the same time, by a burning anger. Eventually, I managed to get myself free of her, but her nails had left marks on my forearms, including a sizable cut that bled well. Hard to believe her nails had done it.

I ripped part of my Hogwarts robe, tied it around the cut, and opened my trunk. I could be expelled for this.

I would probably get expelled for this.

I would probably lose my wand too.

Closing my eyes, I took in the sobering of my mom. I grasped my wand, an 11 inch made of Beech and Unicorn hair, and placed in the inside of a muggle jacket I had on my trunk. Putting the jacket on, I put the hoodie over my head since it was raining.

I stopped myself at the front door. "The doctors are coming," I said out loud, and hopefully my mom would stay put. Yeah, I should've gone back and reassured her, told her in a better way as to make sure she understood. But I couldn't look at her, either by shame, or by frustration. Now shame and frustration from who, I wasn't sure.

Did it bother me the fairy tale I was living in every year while my family lived in this shithole? Did it bother me that they weren't wizards? Did it bother me that I was a wizard? I couldn't answer none of those questions right now. I could only start walking, and my pace increased by the step.

I ran along the streets, my jeans and snickers getting soaked by each and every puddle I stepped in. It's not that I didn't see them. It's just… I couldn't care. And I also ran for a good while too, keeping my breathing controlled and my sprint directed. I knew where I had to go, how far I had to go to find my brother's old gang.

I went north along the water. There was a system of reservoirs east of Tottenham, and I just had to follow them up, until I reached the right abandoned factory building. I circled around, keeping my distance, until I found a way in that wasn't the front. A hole on the brick wall, big enough for me to crouch through.

Despite the rain pouring, the skies were only becoming increasingly greyer. The light was getting dimmer, and the rain was the perfect muffler for any sound I made.

I raised my wand.

Was I really going to do this? I was away from home, at the outskirts of Tottenham, or maybe not even in Tottenham anymore. And nevertheless, I was in a suburb of London. A huge city, so it couldn't be so easy to attribute to me any case of magic usage around these parts. I couldn't be the only wizard around. Could I?

Was I risking it?

I would've have to be quick, speed through the probable maze that awaited me, find John, and bring both of us out. I would have to be devastatingly fast and efficient.

I breathed in. Assuring myself I had a good hold of my wand, I crossed through the wall into the property.

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..90s..

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A/N: Burst of Inspiration. I've always wanted to see a take on the Wizarding World through someone who has it hard on the Muggle World. Magic makes living much easier to poor families, but when you family doesn't really have magic, things get much more complicated. I liked when JK explored that aspect through Tom Riddle, as to how the worlds collided when you had a character that wasn't afraid of breaking the rules. That is pretty much the driving force of this story. Peter, after the prologue, will supposedly lose a lot of breaks you would expect of a fully functional member of society, and will delve into the underworld that I feel JK never knew how to approach from a kid's book perspective.

This story is theoretically much smaller than any of my other ones. There will definitely be another chapter, which will then introduce the true premise of the story. From then on, I have no idea if I will keep writing it.


	2. Prologue: The Arrival Pt2

**Welcome to the 90s**

**Prologue Part 2**

I knew from the start that going into what I believed to be the lair of my brother's gang, the 81st Bridge, was a foolish idea at best, and my body knew it too. My heart beat was crazy loud, my hand trembled with the force of the blood running under my skin, my muscles twitched with anxiety, the stress working them over more than any round of exercise I had ever done in my life. And obviously, my fear of the consequences. Losing my wand, expelled, and maybe even Azkaban, if I managed to get my hands on those responsible for my brother's suffering.

Obviously, my reason was begging me to turn away. It also hadn't been my instincts that had taken me to that old industrial complex. It had been the bubbling rage and sorrow which had convinced me. It had been the understanding that my brother's life, if he was still alive, was at stake, and if it was, then someone had taken him from me. Either scenario creeped into my mind an absolute state of loss and frustration.

Frustration that I had gone to Hogwarts, live in a fancy castle, magical too, where I never starved, never lacked sleep, and neither did I lack friends. A place where I didn't have to 'work' to live. While I lived the good life, my biggest worry being the Herbology Final, my brother and mother lived in this hell hole that we called home. But was this any home to have?

"_You will take us out of here."_

My brother told me that, and I believed it. Worst of all, I think he believed it too. So, what was this end that I had to face, this life where I had failed to fulfil my promise to my own family?

The rain did wonders to hide the sound of my footsteps. It was thick now, the drops falling over my head and shoulders as if I was taking a shower. My wand was in my hand, and although I couldn't stop trembling, I wouldn't let go of it. My hold was shaky, but absolute. It had to be.

As I skidded around the building, using the old petrol deposits as cover, I found my way to the main building at an edge protected from the sight of the upper floors. I still hadn't spotted anyone, but the rain made it hard, so I couldn't be sure if there simply wasn't anyone on watch. I knew this was one of the gang's quarters, though I wasn't sure if it was their only one.

I moved along the outer walls, crouching all the way in order to avoid any windows. Finally, I found the fire emergency ladders, which were fortunately extended. The metal was corroded, so I took some care in order to avoid getting cut. That wasn't a bad idea, since I also needed to be quiet. If I were spotted while climbing the god damn ladders, I would be an easy target for a handgun.

One, two, three, the Ladder took me to the roof, providing me with a great advantage. The building had a series of chimneys, and I supposed I could use them to directly infiltrate their base. Problem was, I didn't know where they would take me, and that ignorance could cost my life. Last think I needed was to land in a room full of armed militants. The fact I didn't know how magic would interact with bullets was also a big question mark on my book. The answer to this particular question would define the result of this adventure, and in particular, whether I was leaving this place with my life.

I walked with my back straight over the center of the roof, wand pointed in front of me as I swiped it clean and my sure I was alone. I also made sure to know how many exit points I had, as well as their location. The lack of any oversight made this task extremely easy, and somewhat ironically, that was frustrating. I had to start wondering now, if this place had been abandoned by the 81st. The lack of any security wasn't a good sign that this place was currently being used by a gang. Still, I remained careful, making sure I didn't produce any noise, and that my person was mostly hidden away from anyone outside the building as I approached its edges.

There were a few doors on the roof that would take me downstairs, and I chose the one on the part of the building which had the most emergency exits. Ironically, the emergency exit was locked.

"Alohomora."

The click was satisfying, and with a simple pull, the door opened slightly. I didn't want to open it too much though, since the noise of the rain could announce there had been a break-in in the upper floors. Entering, I closed the door behind me and started descending the stairs. I was careful, step by step, wand always pointed towards the lower staircases.

Until I head voices. I couldn't discern them at first, so I left the staircase for the second floor. The space was completely abandoned. There were numerous cackles of glass covering the floor, and I had to be careful to avoid them. It was dusty too, and there were old pieces of factory equipment lying around. There were also large rows of tables with a few old monitors, and the computers that were still here were empty, save for their open cases.

The voices were still hard to understand. I kept going through the corridors, but I never got the impression I was getting close to their source. I took my time, checking every door that I passed by with my wand ready. But it never happened. I cleaned the second floor before I knew, and I reached a part of the building that had a balcony to a small atrium on the first floor. Finally, I could hear them. Three voices, all male.

I was crouched behind the half-wall, which was made of simple concrete.

"Got a lighter? Thanks"

"Where you found that?"

"Trash can a few blocks away from here."

I stood silent, listening to them. As the conversation evolved, my fears started being confirmed. The 81st had moved away. I got the impression these men were simply homeless, not part of a gang. That is, until one of them decided to give me a treat.

"How's work at the 81st?"

The thought one of them could know about my brother lit the fire inside me again, which had been largely put out.

"Things have been complicated. The work is fair, I can eat, and I have a shower." This voice was the deepest, and I could feel his hesitation. "But it has been a bloody headache after two moles were found out. Everyone's looking over their shoulder, and people aren't playing nice. If you are seen out of line-people start looking—you can't stop wondering, what if they think I'm one of them?"

I tracked their voices, so I had an idea of where in the first floor they were. They were very close to the atrium, since I could hear them clearly, but I couldn't see them. I made my way to one of the staircases, carefully avoiding any debris on the floor. Once I reached the staircase, I took a few seconds to compose myself. I was about to confront at least a gang member, possibly more. He could be armed, though he seemed to be way too low in the hierarchy for that. Nevertheless, I would assume the worst. I went down the steps, and after reaching the first, I positioned myself.

The plan was simple. They would hear some noise that would prod them to leave their room. This would also be my chance to see if they carried any guns or weapons, since they would most likely bring them out for their own safety. I, however, would be somewhere they couldn't see me, but I could see them.

I paid attention to their small talk, which had already deviated from the 81st, and now they were talking about places to sleep the night. It was strange, but I felt some sort of camaraderie between these men. I wonder if they would have each other's back during a moment of danger, or at least coordinate.

I managed to enter a room at the end of a corridor, laying down under a desk and using the perfectly positioned tall case to stand before me. I had but a small window between the bottom of the desk and the top of the case, but sufficient for my eyes and wand, if needed.

I breathed in and out one again. It had been a miracle my trembling steps hadn't announced my presence, but now it was the moment of truth. Now, I was about to cast my firs spell outside Hogwarts, and my first time breaking the rules. If I stopped now, I could go back, make sure my mom would receive medical care, and call it a day.

A few seconds went by, and the image of my brother dead woke me up. Had he been a mole? Had he turned against his own gang? He had never been enticed by these street ideologies, and I he had shared with me that he had joined a gang simply to make sure mother would be protected. But if he turned out to be one of the moles, then mom's life was in danger.

I had to find my brother, both for his and mom's safety.

I pointed my wand to the opposite end of the corridor, visualizing the goal of my spell. I needed to conjure the serpent at the end of the corridor. Long-distance conjurations were hard, but doable. I focused, taking in a few seconds to fortify my spell. Finally, I released it with a whisper.

"Serpensortia."

As I had wished, the snake became real at the other end, and it gazed at its surroundings with the utmost confusion. Was it searching for its summoner?

Nevertheless, the noise the creature created as it slid along the floor, together with its hissing, prompted the men.

"You heard this?"

"Who's there?"

I felt the air becoming still. This was the moment of truth. The two men, both similarly dressed t-shirts (albeit different colors) and black pants, left their room. The unarmed was content at simply peaking outside as he smoked his cigarette, while the others did have two handguns.

"What the fuck?" both armed men exclaimed as they looked at the serpent.

The animal rose its front from the ground, 'standing' in front of them and gazing down at them despite the two barrels point at it. It hissed viciously, feeling the animosity both men had towards the creature.

I didn't hold back, since this spell needed to work perfectly.

I yelled from under the table, wand pointed at the two threats, "Accio handguns!"

Two pieces of metal flew towards me, hitting the computer case with a loud metallic noise. The two men, now unarmed, simply looked back in astonishment. I left the cover of the table and stood, with all three gazing at me in utter confusion.

"The bloody fuck?" The one closest to the snake muttered, but his confusion was quickly washed away by the pain he felt as the snake lunged at his hand. "Motherfucker!" He screamed, jumping back and falling on the ground.

The one smoking was simply content at remaining wide eyed at me, while the one still unharmed managed to break from his bewilderment. He was white, blond hair cut short. He had a scar under his left ear, and his blue eyes shined a dangerous light.

"What you think you are doing, Mary Poppins?" he asked me, his voice unsure.

I stood my ground, taking a few steps forward. The one talking to me didn't move, but the one on the ground whose hand bled kept dragging himself across the floor in order to stay away from the snake.

"Nah, he's got a stick. Isn't that Gandalf?" the one chilling as he smoked proposed.

The other shook his head, "this one looks too much like a little girl for that." He started taking steps forward, but whether that was because he didn't fear me or because he knew there was a snake at the other end of the corridor was lost on me for now.

It became clear in the next second which was it.

"You are not going to pick them up?" He asked me, and his voice grew in an ominous tone. He was talking about the hand guns.

"I don't need them." I assured him, and in some way, I was assuring myself too. My muscles felt suddenly much stiffer, as if my every movement hesitated at a cellular level. My voice was faltering too, but this wasn't the place. I had to be decisive. I couldn't be sure when the Ministry would send someone to check who's casting spells at an old industrial compound north of Tottenham.

"You can't use them?" asked me.

His mate behind him had managed to stay away from the snake, and the animal seemed content at stay put for now. Somehow, I had the feeling it was enjoying seeing me facing the conflict I had put it in the middle of. "Mate, what if is its poisonous?"

The blond guys looked at me, his eyebrows questioning. "Is it?"

I shook my head. "I wouldn't know." I really didn't. I couldn't remember, despite knowing I had once. Was I so nervous that my memory was faltering?

He clicked his tongue as he continued to approach me. "And what do you know, other than pulling pranks with the stick?"

If he got closer, I would lose my range advantage. I wasn't letting that happen. "Stupefy!"

His body flew before he could even react. Crashing against the opposite wall, he fell on the floor mumbling before he seemed to really drift off. The one smoking was amazed, but not scared. He took hold of his cigarette, adjusting its position between his dry lips and untrimmed beard before speaking.

"This doesn't feel like weed?", he half-asked to himself. Surely wasn't a question to any of us.

The other man on the ground had grown quiet too. He had been whimpering in the background, but now that the snake had stopped its advance and he had seen his colleague flying through the corridor, his bleeding hand seemed to have been left at the sidelines for now.

"I have a few questions for you. All three of you." I stated.

The homeless looked doubtful at the stupefied man. "I don't think that one is waking up."

I knew a spell that could do the trick, though I hadn't a lot of practice with it. I took steps forward, keeping my wan levelled in case they were still armed. Finally, reaching close to the room they had been, I signaled for the man still standing to cross the corridor and enter the atrium. The other only got up and started moving once I pointed my wand at him. He looked at it strangely, his brain still trying to process the things I had done with a stick of wood.

I took a few steps back in order to keep my distance as he followed the homeless, and that caution paid off. He took a knife out of his pockets with his still good hand with quite the agility, surely a result of a lot of practice over time, but before he could get close, a simple disarming spell did the trick. His surprise and consequent hesitation were enough of a window for me.

I placed my left foot slightly behind me, and with my right I pressed into his stomach. It wasn't particularly powerful, but it had been enough to put back in the ground, and for added effect, he landed quite close to the serpent I had conjured. That was enough to scare him again, and before he could get bitten, and dispelled the snake. He looked at me again with disbelief, but this time he was more responsive at my command.

"Move you arse." I ordered, motioning him to enter the atrium.

He did so, and right after I levitated the body of the third man, bringing him with me. I placed the blond on the floor, right over a puddle of water in an arguably excessive pettiness of mine. They were gang members and treating them with any sort of respect just didn't feel right. Furthermore, I felt I was about to do much worse.

I conjured two chairs and told them to sit. They looked at each other for a moment, almost as if they were asking each other if they were seeing the shit I was pulling. I couldn't fault them. Magic was, after all, magic. However, I couldn't spend time impressing them. I needed to speed things up before anyone showed up.

"I heard you speaking of a mole in the 81st. What you know about it?" I asked them both.

They didn't answer.

"You understand I can do to you what I've done to blondie over there, don't you?" I asked them with impatience. "Start talking."

The homeless man raised his hands. "Man, I'm not in the 81st—"

I sent a Diffindo to a pillar behind them. The whipping sound had been much louder than and the cut had perforated into the concrete, but that worked either way. They were growing scared at the threat of violence.

"Enervate." I spoke the incantation loud and clear, since I was confident in this spell. The extra effort paid off, with the man waking up almost instantly.

"What the bloody fuck—"

"Wingardium Leviosa." I casted, and I made the man levitate high enough that he could touch the roof. Three floors in total actually. He complained, but he didn't beg. He seemed to be quite proud, and he didn't give in.

"I want you to understand what is going to happen if you fail to give me some answers." I explained simply, to both men sitting in front of me, as well as the man stuck up in the air. "I don't care about who you are, and in fact, its better if I don't, or else I will hunt you down if you lie to me. So, give me the answers I seek, and we will part ways for a happily ever after. Capeesh?" The homeless nodded, but the gang member's eyes were stuck on his colleague.

"You wouldn't drop him." The gang member on the chair challenged me.

I looked at him in the eye.

"Blondie, you seem to be the most talkative." I realized, "Care to share what you know?"

I heard his answer, and the spite in it. "Fuck you!" He exclaimed.

Dropping the levitation charm, is body fell mercilessly towards the ground. He waved his arms around, as if it could stop his fall or help his landing, but it was to no avail. Third, second, finally he was about to enter the final two meters when he yelled desperately.

"OK! OK!"

I stole his momentum and let him drop on the floor with an 'acceptable' final velocity. He still landed with enough speed to crack something, and he couldn't get up afterwards. The blonde gang member simply stayed in the floor, with his hands around his chin and gritted teeth. I took a few steps closer and he looked at me. Seconds ago, in the corridor, he had looked down at me, doubting I would actually harm him.

Now his eyes couldn't hold on their stare at mine. I looked into his iris, and he felt forced to look away. I had hit his pride, and he had nothing against me.

"How can you do stuff like that?" he mumbled the question, not because he didn't want to be loud, but because he was having trouble speaking with the pain on his leg.

"It doesn't matter. You have five seconds before I put you up there again, and this time I'm not stopping you from hitting the ground."

I hadn't really stopped him the first time around though. He kept his teeth clenched, the pain was getting to him, and honestly, I was somewhat surprised at his composure. Maybe seeing magic for real had spiked his adrenaline? It could be a surreal moment for some people.

"Two blokes were selling information about us, the 81st. We dealt with them. A few days ago." He revealed. "We took them up, northeast, and stabbed them."

"Who were the moles?" I asked, my voice faltering wit the thought of my brother being one of them.

He shook his head and hissed. "I don't know, I only drove one of the cars."

I sighed. "What did they look like?"

"I didn't drive the car with them."

Useless then. "You re not telling me much."

"I swear that's what I know! Man, please can you call an ambulance?"

I shook my head. "You will give me a second." I looked at the gang member who had been bitten by a snake, still sitting in the chair I had conjured for him. I pointed my wand.

"Incarcerous."

Thick ropes involved him, tying him to the chair with an unyielding grip. The force of the strings also made the chair fall backwards, and the man his head on the concrete behind him. I wasn't expecting that, and I even closed my eyes to the sound of his head crashing against the hard floor. He was still awake though, so it wasn't that bad.

"If you don't want me to actually open your head, you are going to tell me a few things no?"

The man looked at me with plain fear, "I swear man, I'm a new guy! All they've been given me is transport tasks. I'm just a messenger!"

"So, you must know where the 81st is right? All the holes they use to hide, correct?" I didn't wait for his nod. "Where's their headquarters? Where's their secondaries hideouts?"

The man stammered. "P-P-Please, don't tell them you got it from m-me." He continued at my nod. I had no idea if I was respecting this deal though. I wouldn't expect any gang members to fulfill a deal on honor at least. "Lansdowne Rd, 99, I've dealt with taking a lot of hookers and prostitutes there, so I think there must be a few big shots. There have been some meetings too at Moorefield Rd, 56 and 59."

"Anywhere you guys hold weapons? Something of an armory?" I asked him, but he shook his head viciously. I suppose a new guy wouldn't know that much. Since his voice also seemed to belong to the guy I knew that had recently joined 81st, I wasn't that skeptical of him.

The other one however, who's whimpers grew in noise, was one I couldn't help but feel like he was hiding something. What could I do though, at this point? I hadn't planned none of this, and I'm sure I had fucked up my interrogation somewhat. Whatever, I had found out enough to make my next move.

Now I just needed to obliviate them. I never actually had any practice with the spell, so this was going to be pretty much a trial and error thing. Hopefully I wouldn't break any of these guys' minds, not that I would feel too bad about it.

Not the homeless though. I looked at him again. He had simply enjoyed the spectacle, his cigarette almost at the end. He looked back at me, and I think he knew I wouldn't touch a guy who hadn't lifted a finger at me, even less so with the fact he had nothing. I was already in the wrong here for seeking answers and justice with my own hands. I didn't need to add up to my tally of wrong doings something like assaulting a homeless.

Readying my wand, I took a few steps to get closer to the man whose leg I had broken. "I will call an ambulance after I'm done."

"Done with what?" he looked up at me.

"Obliviate."

* * *

The man's overcoat was dry despite him standing under the thunderous rainstorm. He produced a flip phone from his pocket, which had been ringing for a while already, while holding in his other hand a long wooden cane, a good fit for a tall individual. Opening the motorolla with only one hand, he took the phone to his ear.

"You took your time." A voice from the other side said impatiently.

"I was appreciating." He answered curtly.

"I take it then the intervention was worth it?"

He nodded despite the uselessness. "Kid's a gem."

"Will you retrieve him immediately?"

"No. I'm letting him free for now. I think the next few days will provide him with invaluable experience."

He heard a sigh. "These are different times, Jack. Just bring him here."

"Not this time. This one needs this—"

"You are just doing it how they did with you."

"And it worked." He answered impatiently.

"I suppose." The voice on the phone conceded with difficulty. "Just keep an eye on him. If he's special, that it's better not to lose him. With the war on the horizon, we need everyone we can possibly get."

* * *

AN: Addresses mentioned in this fic have absolutely nothing to do with the real world (obviously).


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